27-Feb-2010 - Leap of Faith

Been a week since I made my great leap and have been as busy as  I would wish to be. 

Got hooked up with some appalling Aussie tourists my first night in Nadi - made me realise why I hate being an Aussie Tourist (sometimes).  We were at a nice small Fijian restaurant opposite my hotel, I ordered kokoda (raw fish marinated in coconut milk, then made up with chilli, onion, coriander - very traditional and very moreish).  She ordered prawns vakalolo - prawns wrapped in banana leaves and steamed.  She nearly died when she opened her parcel and - DEAR GOD, THE PRAWNS STILL HAD THEIR HEADS AND TAILS ON THEM - well she was finished for the night then.  Mossies were biting, her tummy was upset (they had arrived 3 hours earlier), she thought the heat was interacting with her 'medications' (HMMM) and she wanted to go back to the motel.  So he stayed on for a bit, finished his meal and totally bored me to tears with his opinion of Fiji and how to fix all their problems.   AAARRRHHGGH - let me outta here.  They were here for 2 weeks, with no idea where they were going - except to the islands somewhere.  Wanted my phone number - did the good old wrong digit trick - and made my escape.  But I did give them some nice small resorts to check out on their way to Suva. 

Aliti and Treasure House on first  morning in town.  She is looking so good - has lost 2 front teeth and the new ones are coming through. We always thought the ones which were such rotten stumps were her second teeth, but she is maybe not quite as old as we thought.  She is starting to say a few words - there were a clutch of volunteers there, and she had just started saying "Sofie", much to Sofie's delight.  Still not sure about school and the logistics - but will follow that up

Met a delightful NZ woman whose husband works in one of the new resorts.  They are in the process of adopting a baby girl through TH.  Grace is about 12 weeks old and the dearest little thing.  Grace's mother gave birth to her in Suva, walked out of the hospital after the birth with Grace in her arms, put her in a carton and stuffed her in a rubbish bin a few bus stops away.  Fortunately somebody heard her crying  and rescued her.  So she ended up at TH, and with now a new loving family on the way.  These stories are depressingly commo here.  Just in the Fiji Times this morning, was the article on how the current baby boom is under way.  This is a result of, I believe, a time during school hols last year when traditionally (??) many young girls end up pregnant.  Now, the result - which will mean more abandoned babies.

I have settled into a very comfy 2 bedroom flat in Olosara, a small beachside settlement just down the road from where we lived last time.  My hosts downstairs, who own the house, are Sunny and Shareen and their kids.  Nice family, good security, great guard dog (now my mate, thank heavens) and already wanting to buy my Suzy if and when I sell it!  The best thing, however, is that I have the internet in my apartment, a godsend to continue my work and stay connected.  Three days of working in the local net cafe was enough - by after school time it was like the set of a Bollywood movie.

Have made my first visit to a local school - they have an amazing computer lab, with about 20 computers all seemingly in good order and well set up.  But, surprise surprise, they have nobody who can teach.  They have just scored a Peace Corps worker for 3 hours on a Monday and will do 6 x 30 minute lessons with him - which will be a handful.  Anyway, I will go back and talk to the head teacher today and see where I can fit in.  He is keen for the small children to have the chance to learn - my dear friend Jane says that any learning at that age is learning, don't be deterred.  I was scouring the net yesterday for clues, and there is plenty of online learning games, but nothing much you can download.  I doubt that this school has the net.  I managed to download some good tools for English literacy, but printing out and then colouring pencils will be another matter.  But first things first. 

It seems there are several schools with kindly donated computers – mostly from overseas benefactors - but none of them have a teacher.  It seems such a shame - but an indication of how disposable computers are in other countries that we can give them away.  But we can't give away enough money to sponsor a teacher for a year to teach the whole school.  If you could just find the right person...

I am sure there are lots of people out there who would gladly give a few weeks of their time to come here and teach computer, or literacy.  Just need to be able to co-ordinate them.   HMMMM - another crazy idea to keep the Valagi Loloma awake at night. 

I visited Waya and Viwa Islands when I had my trip to the Yasawas last year.  They are crying out in the paper today for a teacher and for a nurse.  They are something like 70km by open boat to the nearest Clinic - just one nurse is all they want.  Pregnant mothers have to take that trip if they want to have proper medical antenatal care - and why should they not be entitled to it. 

It has been nice to come back to this town - I feel part of the community and even though I see the same person several times in one trip to town and still forget their name, they are very forgiving.  That's because I am the eccentric white woman.  I live in hope of somebody directing my ramblings to  Bill Gates or James Packer  or even somebody not quite so wealthy, but who has a couple of hundred thousand dollars to spare - there is so much could be done here.  Scary, really

And I do love the pirated DVD's - more movies to catch here than I ever do at home, all for $3 a pop.

And I  have PayPay - if anybody is keen to add a little to the pot. 

11-Feb-2010 - The Wheels on the Bus

I am going to start with the important news.  We have decided today that it is going to cost about $100FJD per week to keep Aliti in school.  The school is waiving fees, but the cost is in a carer for the day, plus Mila is going to hire a driver, who will double as a handyman around TH.  The taxi was becoming ridiculously expensive.  Hiring a driver for the van fulfils a couple of needs – it gives them a reliable person for the morning and afternoon school runs, plus it gives them a ‘man about the house’ for lifting/carrying/yard maintenance, etc.  Especially as she has a man in mind who will apparently fill the fill. This is a good plan for all concerned.  Aliti’s carer is one of the ladies who has done childcare training for special needs children – which will be good for both she and Aliti. 

SO THAT IS THE TARGET – APPROXIMATELY $5000FJD(less than $3000AUD) PER ANNUM.  It’s now out there in the universe, and in our hands. 

Today I was the bus driver for Treasure House – just to give Ulamila a bit of a break.  She has driven every day now since school resumed, plus now driving Aliti to Lautoka. 

I left Sigatoka at a dreadfully early 5.45am – in full agreement with the local people’s dislike of the new daylight saving.  It is pitch dark and all the kids are on the roadside, in the dark, waiting for buses.  Sun doesn’t rise till about 6.40am – so very dangerous time for kids to be about.  Plus, my Suzy has a terminally high low beam, so every approaching car feels honour bound to flash me – even though they see me dip my lights.  Drives me nuts. 

So we got everybody in the bus by 7.30, then the circuit to the schools.  Little ones to kindy, bigger ones to school, night shift ladies to their bus stops and to buy the morning bread to take home, then on to Lautoka for Aliti. 

Lautoka Special School has about 30 kids, they live in for 2 weeks residential, then every second weekend they have an ‘exit’ weekend.   They are a wide variety of kids – from very disabled in wheelchairs, to deaf and blind.  Thursday is sports day and it was a fun crew on the oval, under the care of the teachers and volunteers.  There are 2 Japanese girls from JaCo and one Aussie physio from AusAid.  The Japanese girls are just wonderful with the little ones and apparently the kids adore them.  So the kids have their small groups of different activities, the more disabled ones have a carer, usually a family member to help out.  Aliti has Serenia. 

But man, oh man, the big kids had the toughest game of soccer you could imagine.  A couple of boys in wheelchairs – one boy with no legs – were mixing it well and truly, even though the other kids were giving them not much respite.  There was one very bright looking one boy, maybe 14 or so, who was in a chair and appeared to have deformed lower legs and feet.  I kept glancing up at the game and would see him on the ground. Then I realised he was out of his chair and dragging himself in play – he could get up on his knees and punt the ball no problems, even dive upwards to head it.  Then when everybody else was running wildly, he was dragging himself along in the dirt – it was amazing to watch.  All with the biggest smile and fully engaged with the game.  He obviously has an incredibly strong upper body, with good movement from his knees upwards. 

Aliti had a great time, dropping balls in a bucket, kicking at the ball, running races with the other kids in chairs being pushed by the carers.  Everybody screaming  with laughter. 

Mila had been asked by Lautoka Social Welfare to come and see 2 local children, in the hope of being able to place them at Treasure House.  She was very happy to have me with her (?) but I was very pleased to be asked along.  First was baby Aaron.  He is six months old, was born at Lautoka Hospital but abandoned by his single mother at birth.  He developed hydrocephaly and six weeks ago he had a shunt placed in his head.  He has come out of the Neonatal  ICU just 3 weeks ago, to the general children’s ward.  Of course, he is the darling of the staff and has his own very special cot front and centre.  They want him to go to Treasure House, but there are a number of people keen to adopt.  He is a beautiful, very normal looking little baby, but he needs 4 hourly pump manipulation and will do so until he is 5 years old.  So, even though he has a good prognosis, it is important that he has very regular medical care.   Then a couple turned up – a Fiji born, Australian citizen who is a nurse in Adelaide and his Fijian lawyer wife.   They are there for holidays, have been visiting her mother upstairs and discovered Aaron, so have been visiting him every day for 2 weeks.  They are very keen to adopt – let’s hope Aaron is soon heading off to a loving Australian family.  If not, then his future is unclear, as Treasure House is probably not the place for him.  Which means – where does he go.

The second was Patrick, a 10 year old boy in the care of a Fijian couple.  The wife had seen the mother begging with this child over a number of years.  One day, the child was in a very bad state and this lady just picked him up and took him home.  This family seem to be a reasonably well to do family – they have five children of their own.  Patrick was in such bad condition that he spent 4 months in hospital, his weight was 18kg, he had been terribly abused.  They think the mother had been knocking him around the head, to make him insensible and this had caused brain trauma.  Or maybe he was mildly disabled and was now just worse.  He was having up to 4 epileptic seizures a week, now only about 2 a month with medication.  He had been hospitalised as a young child when she had left him home alone and he had drank kerosene, as there was no water.  Anyway – now his carer family can no longer look after him.  He is a big boy, the wife is sick and has to go into hospital, in 15 months it has all just gotten too much for them.  Now they want Social Welfare to find a place for him – which is nigh impossible.  Again, not a case that Mila could place at Treasure House – in part because they have a house rule that boys over 6 years need to go to the Ba Boys Home.  So he is too old for starters.  But apparently this child’s mother is still begging in the town, now with his little 3 year old sister as a tool.  Semi, our Social Welfare guy, is going to follow her up.  Mila was outraged that these children had been on Social Welfare’s radar for years, with nothing done. 

Patrick’s case was probably more stressful for me, because he has been given shelter in a private home, obviously loved and well cared for.  His weight is now normal, his seizures are under good control, but he has simply worn out his welcome.  And such a sweet little boy, who was very likely a normal toddler.  Mila and I talked about it and she is going to talk to the Matron of the Special School, to see if they can take him there, at least for the 2 weekly residential.  Then maybe Mila will find a kind member of their Church to take him on the alternate weekends.  There has to be something which can be done for this dear little boy. 

So it reinforces to me just how precious is Aliti’s situation.  To have found a home where she is loved and cared for beautifully, to have the opportunity for schooling.  The day she and I met is one of life’s rare gifts.

8-Feb-2010 - The Terminator

If you read my recent blog about the life of a house share with cockies, then you will be up to speed.  They have really gotten the better of me over the last few days.  I have stopped spraying at night, and leave them to have their rest – or more to the point, run wild through the place without the benefit of the mood-altering substance in the Red Spray Can. 

Last night, however, in the early evening I was watching a DVD – Invictus, it was great and I now actually know the first rule of rugby – only pass the ball to the side or to the rear – when the sound of the scuttling got the better of me.  I mean, fair cop, I had the lights on and I hadn’t even gone to bed.  There is a storage loft above my kitchen, with some rolled up Fijian mats and who knows what else.  I could see a couple of very large cockies up there, so I couldn’t resist the temptation to give the loft a shot from the deadly Red Spray Can.  I whispered my hopes for rebirth in a better life for them, then settled back to my movie.  By bed time all was quiet in Cockie Country. 

Different story this morning when I got up.  I picked up 9 very large, very terminal cockies from the kitchen and bathroom.  They are huge and even the ants were having trouble dragging them out the door.  As I had bought my Mortein bombs yesterday, I decided that I would go for a walk this morning and set off the bombs before I left.  Did that, got home about an hour later to the sight of 27 very large dead cockies throughout the place.  I haven’t even found all the ones which may have died inside the cupboards. It kind of reminded of our old days at Eudlo, when we had a mouse plague and I set a trap with a piece of bacon in a kitchen cupboard – that trap went off 7 times in about 30 minutes and I caught a mouse every time.  Eudlo was the house where if you wanted to go to the toilet at night – which was through the kitchen and into the bathroom, you had to stand in the doorway between the lounge and the kitchen, turn on the light, wait a minute for all the livestock to scuttle away – cockroaches, cane toads, rats – then walk quickly across to the toilet at the other end.  Character building days for our boys, that’s for sure. 

 I think that it must be almost a Guinness book of records effort – for a flat that has NEVER had a cockie, according to the owners.  I was almost going to take them down and show her this morning, but I know she would just say it is because I leave the front door open (no screen) and they must all be flying in since I have moved here (one week ago).  Still, they are nice people and I don’t want to offend – they give me fish and coconuts and soon I am gonna have to murder their young dog for barking in the night.  But the Tales of Blackie and Booza is for another blog!

I was going to go for the gross photo and line them up and record them here for posterity, but that would have meant touching them and I am not that keen on the blighters.

Instead, for your edification, here’s a photo of last night’s dinner of locally caught prawns – caught on the reef out the front on Friday night, into the markets Saturday early, into my seafood salsa Saturday nite.

8-Feb-2010 - First Day of School

Those of my friends who know the story of my Fijian granddaughter, Aliti, won’t need to be reminded of my bond with her and her future.  It is part of the reason why I am back here – for her and for her little sisters up in the Sigatoka Valley.

I have been very keen for  Aliti to start school – with the help of Mila, the Director of Treasure House.  Last week when I arrived back in Nadi, and went to visit TH, they were apparently still waiting documentation from Social Welfare so they could enrol her.  As I thought I had left all that in order last year before I left, I was put out to say the least.  Once I got down to Sigatoka I went to visit my friends at Social Welfare  to find out what was happening.  It seemed only to take a mention that they were dragging the chain, and miraculously TH had a visit, plus Aliti was suddenly ready for school.  I went to visit her on Thursday this week, to find that she had gone to Lautoka for her first day at the Lautoka Special School.  So I waited around the house till she came home at lunch time.

She was very tired and had had a nap in the car, but Mila had accompanied her and said she had a ball.  She even joined in their ‘sports’ – remarkable for the way she was just a year ago when our lives intersected.  Mila has had a visitor, an occupational therapist from Australia, who has been doing some assessments on Aliti and giving the staff at TH exercise protocols.  She went to the school as well and told Mila that, even though the school is a residential facility, with the preferred option being for her to live in, that she thought it would be best for Aliti to return home to TH and not live in.  At the school, she would be one of 30 disabled kids, with probably minimal personal interaction after school.  At TH she is only one disabled child, who mixes it with all the normal kids and has a crew of staff to tend lovingly to her needs.  A sound decision, but one which will change the financial dynamics of her future.

There were many friends who expressed interest in being involved in Aliti’s long term care.  Well, now we are getting to the time where that is starting to happen.  Firstly, we have decided that she needs a personal carer to accompany her each day, to ensure her safety in transit and her well being whilst at school.  We have also decided that rather than use the big TH bus to take her to Lautoka (about 25km) each school day and the costs involved, it would be better to have a regular taxi booked each day, who will be her permanent transport.  This is a fairly common occurrence in Fiji – sounds decadent – but really no different to the disabled kids in Australia who go to and from their school in a taxi.  Unfortunately, no government subsidy here.

She will need some clothes and a regular supply of diapers, she has her wheel chair courtesy of Sunshine Coast Therapy Centre, I bought her some swimming things back with me this time, as the kids at the school have regular hydrotherapy.  Her school fees have been sponsored by the Australia Pacific Technical College  – a TAFE style training centre funded by AusAid – a great bonus for us. 

The other part of my dream is that her small sisters, still living up in the valley may also have the opportunity to start their schooling.  Last year, with some of the funds you donated, I was able to finalise their birth registrations, which they need here to be able to register for school.  I also equipped their grandfather’s house with some basic necessities of life, to provide them with some simple comforts.  My friends at Social Welfare also ensured that he received the Aged Benefit.  Over the next few weeks I plan to get the old man and the little girls into Nadi to visit Aliti – she hasn’t seen them for a year and we think it would be a good thing all round that she isn’t totally removed from her roots.  Then, I will work on getting the little girls into their local kindergarten.  I have heard recently that Aliti has a young brother living with a relative nearby – if not back with the grandfather by now.  Another part of this small family I would like to help.

My dream, for a long time, has to be to enable small miracles to happen – anywhere, anytime.   I would love to think that I could set up a children’s home along the lines of Treasure House – heaven knows, there is a desperate need in this country for shelter for these kids.  But I am not confident of that process – or that it is the right thing to do. However, I live in hope that one day one of these blogs/emails/newsletters will find its way to Oprah Winfrey, or Bill Gates, or James Packer – or some other lesser known wealthy philanthropist.  Then – I am in there, feet first.   What I can do, however, with your help, is to secure the future of a few children very easily and very NOW.

If you think you would like to be part of the future of some of these kids, then you could pop a contribution into my Fiji Fund – a different number from last time, unfortunately, but no transaction costs to you as it is an Australian account which I can easily access here. 

For those who remember the first photos – taken on Australia Day 2009 – the change for this little girl is nothing short of a miracle.

5/2/2010 - Quite possibly insane.

2-Feb-2010 - Life with The Cockroaches

My landlords assure me that they have NEVER EVER seen a cockroach in their upstairs flat – despite having lived there since the tsunami warning last year.  I find that a bit hard to believe in this country – and especially when we have a backyard full of ducks and chickens, and the detritus which goes along with poultry keeping Fiji-style. 

On my first night, I kept stirring from sleep, thinking I was sweating about the neck.  I finally woke up to realise there was the most ginormous cocky sharing my bed – snuggling in under my neck.  I quickly jumped up and gave him short shift with the spray, finding legs-up the following morning being carted off by the ants. 

I mentioned it to my landlady.  My main concern in this place is that all windows are screened – except my bedroom and the front door.  They just blithely say – oh, just keep the front door closed and close your bedroom window.  Yeah, right.  Fiji in summer is a place where you need every tiny breath of air you can get.  So I leave the door open, much to her horror of the flies which are now sharing the place with me. 

But on my third night here I heard the sound of incoming cockies in my room in the dark.  It sounded like the midday Jetstar flight coming in to Maroochydore and I pulled my sheet over my head in anticipation of the landing.  The beast only made it as far as the floor at the foot of my bed, where it proceeded to scuttle around madly.  I actually thought I may have been mistaken, that it was a rat after all, it sounded so large.  I dozed off, then awoke again to the sensation of something sitting on my feet, then scuttling around over my legs, finally running up my body – all this while I am under the sheet, I might add.  I knew it was the dreaded cockie, so gave the sheet an almighty flick before the damn think got to my face – only to misjudge the flick and actually flick it onto my head.  Out of bed like a shot and grab the spray and dispatch it to cockie heaven. 

The next morning, the spraying must have disturbed a whole colony of cockies because I picked up 5 very large dead ones in the kitchen.  So much for never any cockies in this place.

I had used a full can of spray so bought another one – a red can – which guarantees to find hidden cockroaches.  Lord only knows what’s in it – it will probably reduce my lifespan by 5 years, but it does the job nonetheless.  Last night, about 3am I made the awful mistake of going to the toilet.  There were 2 large cockies in the bathroom, so I grabbed the red can and hit them a beauty.  Then – a new noise from the kitchen – a cockie had found its way into my bread bag and was rustling around inside the plastic wrap.  A quick spray into the bread bag and – voila – a feed of bread and one dead cockie for the ducks this morning.  One of the lessons of Fiji – don’t disturb the cockies in the middle of the night.  From that moment, all I could hear was the scuttling and death throes of giant cockies throughout the place.  I have high exposed ceilings, so I could hear them running up the ceiling, knowing full well that gravity and the toxic effect of the red spray would drop them eventually.  Which it did, of course, mostly into my bedroom. 

This morning, there was a positive harvest of dead and dying cockies strewn throughout the flat.  I think I dispatched 7, and found the ants doing their bit and carrying out another 2 – down the stairs and into the distance. 

Today – I bring in the big guns.  Mortein Cockie Bombs – a big expense in Fiji – but they will do the trick.  I’ll go out for a few hours tomorrow, set them and then come home to see the carnage.

I actually am not too concerned by cockroaches, I will happily dispatch one with my shoe, or a spray.  But I definitely don’t like sharing my bed with them.   I know they are a sentient being, whose punishment for past life misdeeds is to be reincarnated as a cockroach therefore they should be treated with respect and pity.  But I’m sorry – cockroaches and cane toads are despatched with a blessing for an auspicious rebirth – and smacko, they’re gone. 

6/1/2010 - I wish I'd known more

My father passed away over the weekend after being diagnosed with cancer 6 months ago, a disease that spread rapidly and had affected many of his major organs by December 09

I'm publishing this, not to be morbid, but so that if you go through something similar to me, you are informed.  We had a wonderful nurse in the PA hospital who let us know about the different stages that dad was going through as his body shut down.  I've found some good links that offer more information, I just wish I'd read them before dad passed away.  Sadly we just knew he was really sick, but did not realise how close to death he was.

• Amitahba Hospice, Signs of Dying
• About.com: The Dying Process
• What to Expect
• Care for the dying.

I'm also going to depart from my usual state of being a Christian fangirl, and say that many Buddhist hospices have excellent information.  If my memory serves me correctly from when a family friend passed away, Buddhists have a focus on palliative care and supporting families with terminally ill loved ones as they believe that the process of going from this world to the next is important.  As such, it is not good to have an untimely death or put a person at risk of suicide.  The first link in particular is quite good, and after seeing my father die, I do share the idea that the dying  process is the process of gradually going from this life to the next.

30/12/2009 - Hospitals - Not bad but could do much better

I’ve heard it said in political circles that women my age and older care fairly passionately about the health system, as we are finally exposed to it, having not normally needed to access hospitals much during our late teens and twenties.  How true this is.  And I am saying this, not because I have children, which is more common, but because my family has had something of an annus horibus with respect to health.  I’ve torn my calf muscle, my grandfather is finally too frail to look after himself and another close family member was diagnosed with a terminal illness.  I have to say overall that despite the bad press and the horror stories from both the press and my personal circle, we seem to have a good system here in Queensland, but there is much need for improvement.  When you’re dealing with sick people and their families, you really can not do enough for their comfort and information.

My first big gripe is actually our private health care system.  Private hospital costs are fairly well covered by private health care and Medicare still covers much of it.  But private health insurers really are selling us short by not covering doctors fees at all or the fee to be admitted to Emergency in a private hospital.  I was several hundreds of dollars out of pocket last year when I had surgery – my doctor charging almost twice the Medicare fee and only 75% of anaesthetic costs ever covered between Medicare and private health.  My terminally ill relative also decided to take a chance on going private with treatment for a bit this year after getting a wee bit fed up with the public hospital, and is still paying off the charges – pretty rich for someone who is on 75% of their income.

Coordination of treatment seems to go by the wayside when someone is being treated by a team rather than just one doctor as has been the case with both my relatives, and this was also the experience of a close friend of mine who had a parent pass away from cancer this year.  I have spent hours and hours frustrated and on the verge of tears trying to find out what was happening with my relative’s treatments and then trying to co-ordinate with more than one hospital is enough to make me want to take up Voodoo and curse the lot of them.  However I have discovered just recently that once someone gets into palliative care for their pain, that the communication between practitioners does get a little better.

And on a more practical note, hospital parking is a b!tch.  The last thing you want to do when you are visiting a sick or dying relative, or having someone visit you is to be hit for $12-$15 parking!  I can wear it as I work and I think my relatives are worth it, but I can imagine most people who have to be treated in the public hospital system may find it a stretch if they are visiting frequently.  And the thing is when someone is sick, they do need frequent visits.  Hospital is a miserable place, and I imagine it’s quite lonely sitting there by yourself in pain with little other than the telly to take your mind off it – if you want to pay the $10/day to watch.  I’ve been hit up twice today as I needed to go home for lunch and to sort out some other stuff I’ve got going on, whilst I am still on holidays.  The other thing that drove me nuts this week when taking my relative in to be admitted to the PA, is that once you drop someone off in Emergency, there is no where within an easy distance to park, meaning it’s at least 20 minutes before you can get to your seriously ill family member or friend.  That being said, whilst my family member was pretty sick and was admitted straight away, there did seem to be a lot of people in the waiting room who did not look particularly sick or injured (except the woman who was having her hand strapped up by the guy at the registration desk as he took down her details).  I realise the health system has to address people who turn up to hospital with ailments that could be addressed by GPs (upping the amount reimbursed by Medicare would be a good start), but having inconvenient parking and 2 hour time restrictions on parking in the area is not a good way to do it.  Also I find it a little disconcerting having to go through the pscyh ward to get to the main hospital from the car park.  I know that I’m safe, but I also know that that’s the ward that gives most of my friend in health care the most grief.  It creeps me out and borders on inappropriate planning.

And finally, a few points on strategy.  I can not believe how few (read: none) hospitals are going into new areas in Brisbane and other expanding areas in Queensland.  No wonder there is such pressure on housing and accommodation in older areas that are still well serviced – living in the outer suburbs you really wouldn’t want to risk something like cardiac arrest as you wouldn’t get into a hospital on time.  And secondly there really needs to be more done to address chronic illnesses before they set in.  And not just colour coding tuckshop food for children – seriously funding cooking classes, quitting smoking services, alcohol rehab, etc.

17/12/2009 - Update

Dear friends, who are still reading,

just to let you know that at the moment I am going through a wee bit stressful situation.  A close family member is quite sick (possibly terminally but I hope not), my grandfather is in hospital, I'm learning a new job and organising Christmas.  So, sadly, I won't be updating the blog too often.  But I will probably have some time to do some ranting after Chrismas and definitely in the new year.

Regards

AJ

10/12/2009 - No state education for my hypothetical children!

I’ve just re-read an article about a child in a local school who was assaulted by another student.  Apparently the mother was phoned and told the child was involved in an incident which would be explained when her son was picked up.  Apparently the child’s father was at home but the school never called the home number.  When the child was taken to a doctor by their parents, they were told that the child was lucky to escape brain damage as the resulting concussion was so bad. 

Now the school is a state school, so short of lodging a complaint with the department, which will probably result in nothing, and raising the assault as a police matter, there really is little the parents can do.  And this has crystallised for me, why, should I be lucky enough to have them, I really don’t want to send my children to a state school.  You see if a private school does the wrong thing, they can be sued.  If a state school does the wrong thing, parents really don’t have much recourse.  And reassuringly, the courts do hold up the rights of parents when schools could improve their performance.  For example, The Southport School was sued by the parents of a boy who suffered severe brain damage whilst on school premises and was swept into a drain by flood waters.  He has been awarded one of the state’s biggest pay outs.  And that is reassuring, despite the fact that no amount of money that can bring back a child or their lost potential.

It all feeds into the fact that governments do need to be more accountable and possibly even liable for their decisions.  But I’ll leave that for another rant.

10/12/2009 - Open Letter to the Queensland Transport Minister

A poxy little flat,

Kevin Rudd’s Electorate

Qld

10 December 2009

The Minister for Transport

An office that is nicer than mine

Ipswich (a city that is not nicer than mine)

Dear Rachel Nolan,

Transport Minister, I am a firm believer in the decentralisation of government, I believe in it whole heartedly. I see absolutely no reason why hoards of public servants should clog up the central BUSINESS districts in capital cities, taking up office space, car parking and precious breathing space.  After all, thanks to the grossly inadequate transport system you’ve let your ministry preside over, we can hardly expect them to catch busses and trains like the rest of us.  

But I’m by no means an extremist.  When I talk about decentralisation I mean considering if new jobs can be based in regions and moving offices to places like South Brisbane, Spring Hill, Fortitude Valley or Milton.  Convenient, central but no-CBD locations.  What would be extreme, is say moving people to Pine Rivers, Logan or Ipswich.  Now I know you’re from Ipswich.  And I know it’s an area going ahead and I can understand you want to give local businesses a boost. It is your electorate after all. But I guess only ever travelling to and from Brisbane in private transport, possibly even with a very convenient diver so you can come and go as you please, so you won’t have noticed that it’s actually a rather difficult place to get to.  There is one train line and one main road.  You may have also noticed that the road is in rather poor repair and you might want to chat to your mate the Minister for Main Roads about that.  No wait, the Premier has made your depts join together.  So you’re responsible for that too.

All of this brings me to my point, which is your absurd idea of basing the HQ of the new Queensland Rail Government owned corporation out at your home town of Ipswich.  Why on earth did you decide to base it out there Rachel?  I realise that I personally may not end up out there, but I may.  And I’m not so happy about it.  For a start, when I decide to jump ship back to the private sector, how can I interview for jobs without chucking sickies all the time?

Also, I’ve had family members work out there, and besides having to regularly deal with the less socially proficient, a distinct lack of low-fat food and an hour commute, they’ve also had to face the train journey.  I’m sure our Operational staff know how awful the company is in the Ipswich station and on the train back to civilisation Brisbane, but do you know?  I’m not sure how many of the current employees really want to put up with that.

And as if facing the social problems is not punishment enough, Rachel, the fact of the matter is not all of your GOC employees live in a location handy to Ipswich.  Some for example live on the Sunshine or Gold Coasts.  And whilst that’s a long commute to Brisbane, it’s half a working day to get from there to Ipswich and back.  Are you serious, you want to ask your valued employees to give up their work life balance to give a few businesses in your electorate a bit of a boost?

And the worst part about this Rachel, is that we don’t get a say.  I have just found this out this week.  Government owned corporations are not owned by the people of Queensland like our government departments.  In the legislation to create GoC’s the owners, are actually you, the premier and the treasurer.  We get no say what so ever!  So if you want to make employees go to whoop whoop, there’s nothing in place to stop that. And I noticed that little clause about the ‘owners’ not being liable for anything.

But despite the fact that you can dictate what you like to GoC’s, please, for the love of all that’s good, don’t move us out to Ipswich.

Regards,

AJ

1/12/2009 - For the Investors out there

I'd just like to repost a press release from a friend:

INVESTORS BEWARE BRIAN CLIMO AND MERIVALE HOLDINGS LLC

Superior Care Group warns investors of the dishonest business practices of Brian Climo and his company, Merivale Holdings LLC, of 18 Shannonbrook Ave Ormeau and 51 Fallenstone Drive, Spring, Texas, and advises against entering into any financial transactions with either party. Mr Climo also works with an associate, Tony Edge.

Mr Climo promotes throughout Australia and New Zealand his service of procuring investment properties in Texas, USA. He does this by introducing investors to the business and investment climate in Texas and offering to select undervalued properties for purchase and subsequent renting out by the investor. Mr Climo charges the investor a fee of $US12,000 for each property purchased by the investor, offering substantial discounts if multiple properties are purchased. As part of his brokering service he offers to connect the investor to various suppliers of connected services to assist the investor in managing their investments: bank lender, Texas-based real estate agent, a letting agent, home insurer, title insurer, tax attorney and property maintenance contractor. Mr Climo is not a licensed real estate agent.

Mr Climo promotes the investments as yielding 12% but after taking into account taxes, insurance, maintenance costs and letting fees the investment yields 5%.

The investor is able to either buy properties on Mr Climo's recommendation sight-unseen, or the investor may travel to Houston where Mr Climo offers to take the investor on a tour of the city and show the investment properties to the investor on a no-obligation basis. If the investor chooses to travel to Houston they will be required to pay a $US5,000 security to ensure their bona fides in undertaking the trip. Mr Climo offers that if the investor chooses not to buy any investments the $US5,000 is fully refundable.

In the case of Superior Care Group, this security was paid to Mr Climo and a company officer traveled to Houston. No properties were purchased, however Mr Climo and Merivale Holdings LLC refused to refund the security on the basis of setting this amount off against other additional services supplied in Houston, without detailing any of the alleged services.

Mr Climo's promotion is fraudulent and his business dealing are dishonest. Investors are warned to avoid Brian Climo, Tony Edge and Merivale Holdings LLC.

http://www.superiorcare.com.au/media-releases.html

1/12/2009 - Movember is Upon us....

Hi,

I have decided to support Movember this year by signing up as an official Mo Sista.  

During Movember (once known as November), men put down their razors for 30 days and grow a moustache with the aim of raising funds and awareness for men’s health – specifically prostate cancer and depression in men. The role of a Mo Sista is to support the Mo Bros in their life – brothers, boyfriends, Dads, uncles, cousins, husbands – and help them to raise funds.

What many people don’t appreciate is that close to 3,000 men die of prostate cancer each year in Australia and one in eight men will experience depression in their lifetime - many of whom don’t seek help. Facts like these have convinced me I should get involved this year and I am hoping you will support me as I try and raise funds.

To support me and the Mos in my life, you can either:

•    Click this link http://au.movember.com/mospace/278646/ and donate online using your credit card or PayPal account
•    Write a cheque payable to ‘Movember Foundation’, referencing my Registration Number 278646 and mailing it to: Movember Foundation, PO Box 292, Prahran, VIC, 3181.

Remember, all donations over $2 are tax deductible.

Movember is now in its sixth year and, to date, has achieved some pretty amazing results by working alongside men’s health partners, The Prostate Cancer Foundation (PCFA) and beyondblue: the national depression initiative. Check out further details at: http://au.movemberfoundation.com/research-and-programs.

To find out more information on Movember, check out http://au.movember.com.

Thank you in advance for supporting my on my Movember journey as a Mo Sista.

Angela James

14/11/2009 - I say this in jest, but I have a point!

For those of you who know R, you will know that he is a very responsible man.  He is the sort of guy who does not want to settle down until his career and his prospects are in a very secure position.  And whilst in my more hormonal moments I wonder if this is an excuse not to settle down, realistically it is one of the reasons why I have a lot of respect for him.  The thing is though R is a small business owner, providing a couple of essential services.  The downer at the moment is that many of these services receive government funding and in return there are government restrictions on how the businesses can be run.  This includes the prices that can be charged for the services that he provides.  So as prices keep inflating, the business can not charge more and this fact alone has put quite a few less efficient competitors out of business.  Hence whilst business is fine at the moment, the prospects seem to be quite poor.  I am open to the fact that R may be ‘impression managing’ me, the media does support what he tells me.  The most annoying thing is that the government is well aware that they need to either increase funding or change the amount that businesses in the industry charge, but they are bounding white papers and green papers and goodness knows what other colour papers between different departments in an attempt to look like they are doing something, whilst doing nothing at all!

Has anyone else noticed this?  The government is actually doing very little at the moment, but seems to have paper after paper to discuss.  At some points words are not enought, and carefully considered options must be put into action.  Heck I'm pretty sure some of the original papers Rudd put in for consideration at the beggining of his term (ie aircraft noise over the South side of Brisbane) must be out of date now after 2 years of 'being considered.'

So whilst I am always reluctant to blame the government instead supporting personal responsibility, logically, I  have no choice in this instance.  Our government keeps extending it’s reach more and more to the point that they keep stuffing up the business activities and personal prospects of individuals.  I can not be the only one!

So I shall have to write to my local member about this.  Perhaps it should go something like this,

Dear Mr Rudd,

It was lovely to see that you were able to marry off your daughter, but you are ruining the prospects of many other young hopefuls like myself who are dating small business owners….

13/11/2009 - From the CIS this week

Aboriginal men need jobs, not more programs

A new Australian Medical Association (AMA) report says a lack of purpose in Aboriginal men’s lives has had a profound impact on their health and well-being—not to mention the lives of their women and children. This finding is far from surprising. You don’t need to be a brain surgeon to work out that sitting around doing nothing leads to despondency and despair.
The statistics paint a bleak picture. Aboriginal men are twice as likely to be hospitalised for mental health and three times more likely to commit suicide than other Australian males.
Somewhat predictably, AMA wants more money for programs that address violent behaviour and self harm. But such programs are only band-aid solutions and do not go to the heart of the issue.
The unspoken word behind AMA’s ‘sense of purpose’ is employment.
In 80% of all Indigenous homicides, neither the victim nor the perpetrator was employed, and alcohol was involved in nearly half of these cases.
A recent study found that 70% of residents in remote communities in East Arnhem Land use cannabis, with almost 90% of users claiming to be addicted and smoking more than six cones a day. Senior Arnhem Land elder Bakamumu Marika says the high rate of cannabis use is because people are bored stiff: ‘They've got no work to do, no training, no jobs.’
Although it may be easy to identify the causes and consequences of Aboriginal men’s problems, solving them is more complicated. Many men are too dependent on alcohol and drugs to be employable, whilst separatist schooling has left many lacking the basic literacy and numeracy needed for employment.
Before we throw up our hands in despair, it is worth reflecting on Noel Pearson’s words of hope in the latest Quarterly Essay titled ‘Radical Hope’: ‘The truth is that I am prone to bouts of doubt and sadness ... But I have hope. Our hope is dependent upon education. Our hope depends on how serious we become about the education of our people.’
Sara Hudson is a Policy Analyst with the Indigenous Affairs Research Program at The Centre for Independent Studies.

Through the glass ceiling back to the glass floor